What Will It Take
by truglasgowgal
Summary: They didn't mean for their children to turn out as dysfunctional as they were. Sometimes these things just happen and sometimes it really is the parents' fault. But the world had a habit of spinning on its axis whenever a Sparks appeared. CB. NV. DS. NS.
1. Prologue

Ok, so I know I just posted a new multi-chapter fic a short while ago, but I can't help myself. Plus, this is completely different from that one – and I'm hoping to finish typing up _Through the Looking Glass_ fairly soon, so that updates will be steady for the last few parts of that one, and _Sharing _is only really a seasonal fic, so that should be wrapped up in no time – so I should really have more time to spend on my other fics. Plus, I'm in the mood for some variation ;)

Hope you enjoy…

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**Title:** What Will It Take (To Show You That It's Not The Life It Seems)  
**Disclaimer:** The only things I own are the characters you don't recognise. The title is a line from the My Chemical Romance song 'I'm Not Okay (I Promise)' simply because it fit ;)  
**A/N: **Also, one MAJOR things to note: I'm ignoring the 'love child' plotline – it no longer exists in the universe of my fanfic (it didn't actually, when I first began writing this, and it fits better if it stays that way ;) )  
**Summary: **They didn't mean for their children to turn out as dysfunctional as they were. Sometimes these things just happen – and sometimes it really is the parents' fault. Then again, every time a Sparks appears on the UES, the world seems to tilt on its axis, so they could always just blame him.

"_What I needed most was to love and to be loved, eager to be caught. Happily I wrapped those painful bonds around me; and sure enough, I would be lashed with the red-hot pokers or jealousy, by suspicions and fear, by burst of anger and quarrels."  
**St. Augustine**_

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Prologue: I'd Take The Blame, If You Weren't All As Guilty As I Am

.

"_Everyone wants to live a fairytale. Everyone wants a perfect life, but what makes up a fairytale? Is it truly the pain and the strife? What would a fairytale be, without a damsel in distress? She would never meet prince charming, never dance in her dress. You see you can't have a story with just a beginning and an end. You have to be broken to be able to mend. Without the dark, there'd be no light. Without the wrong, there'd be no right. Every story can have a perfect ending. You just have to wait for it."  
**Marisa Draper**_

.

The whirring of the machines and the steady beeping seemed to irritate her even in sleep.

He stood and leaned over her; his gaze never wavered from her form as he reached out and brushed a few strands of her mahogany locks from her closed eyes, ran the backs of his fingers along the curve of her cheek, traced the line of her jaw.

Her dark lashes fanned out over the hollows beneath her eyes, fluttering in the slightest of movements, but her lids remained shut.

She forever fascinated him, even in sleep, especially then, in fact. She was a beautiful creature by day; but by night, she was utterly captivating.

He lay down next to her, rested his head on her chest and reveled in the feeling of the rise and fall.

He was wrong, his best friend, he was wrong. He didn't come to see her because it would make him feel better. He came because without her, it was hard to remember who he was.

.

He wasn't sure if it really did all stem from him; wasn't certain he could be held accountable for everything that had happened to them all since he'd arrived.

There'd been death and divorce, make-ups and break-ups, drink and drugs abound. He knew his presence was the common factor in many; but he wasn't convinced they wouldn't have happened had he not been there to see them through.

He hadn't been there, in fact, when the latest _incident_ had occurred. They occupied different rooms on different floors, with different outcomes on their horizons. Hers was bleaker than her cousin's; the look in her parents' eyes told him as much. As if seeing the two for himself, mentally documenting the obvious and then the not-so obvious distinctions between them both, wasn't testament enough.

He was the new kid: under suspicion from the start. His name alone raised eyebrows, morphed figures into hard stone, faces defined by the contours of a glare.

It was the life he'd never really led: the one he was born into; but never brought up in.

Nothing was what it seemed; he knew that better than anyone. Only it wasn't such a superficial world he now resided in. It was ever consuming and the mere taste could leave you aching for more; he bore no naïveté so they begrudgingly accepted him as one of their own.

The UES was a black hole, he soon discovered, and he was sucked in just like the rest of them. He added to the collection, and soon Pandora's Box spilled across the streets of Manhattan.

Everyone had their secrets; and where secrets spin webs, scandal runs riot.

He should've known: it was the definition of his life, after all.

.

He wasn't convinced to run now would be the best option though – it was the first time he'd stopped short before his feet hit the tarmac and the wheels left the runway.

_She _did that to him.

She made him think twice.

She made him want to stay.

She made him want to fight.

And he'd be damned if he let her face the aftermath of it all alone.

She asked for him, called out for him; whispered his name as she choked on her own blood.

He couldn't leave her after that.

He loved her.

.

_**TBC…**_

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A/N: the few lines about him lying down next to her are inspired from a small section in 'My Sister's Keeper'

Also, this is going to flashback to everything that's happened. It will mainly surround the lives of the children, but the adults will be heavily involved – in how they influence the youngsters as well as their own interactions with one another as well as their children, and things like that.

Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think.  
Steph  
xxx


	2. Interlude: Everyone

A/N: This takes place well before the prologue – it's basically how it all started.  
Also, each chapter after this will focus on a particular character and their family and friends – this is just a 'second prologue' of sorts, to introduce them a little, so let's call it an 'interlude' ;)

Hope you enjoy…

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Interlude: Everyone – Allow Me To Introduce Myself

"_You must look into people as well as at them."  
**Chesterfield**_

.

Tick. Tap. Tock. Tap. Tick. Tap. Tock. Tap.

She was becoming dangerously closed to being pissed off.

She lifted her arm and her fingers traced the edge of the watch face that adorned her delicate wrist. Her foot halted on the floor, staying rooted to the spot.

"Harper!" her voice came quick and sharp.

The sales assistant next to her jumped a little, and her clear gaze cut across to the woman.

The familiar blonde hair was the first thing to peek out from between the curtains; the next thing she saw was her cousin's dazzling smile.

"Yes, Effy, darling?" was the sickly sweet query from her counterpart.

"Pick one or buy them all, I don't particularly care. I just want out of here," she informed the other.

She flicked a few mahogany strands from her eyes in annoyance.

Then she added tersely, "We're going to be late."

"It's fine, it's fine," Harper assured her, breezing out from the dressing room to join her. "Plenty of time."

"Mmm," the brunette released between tight lips.

She flashed the blonde a smile.

"Well in that case, you can be the one to inform my father of the reason for my tardiness," was what she said to that.

"Your father?" her cousin's steps faltered and she slowly turned around. "You said we were going to your grandmother's."

"We are." The brunette reveled in the look the blonde was sending her then. "To pick up my dress before I have to go to see my dad."

"Oh. Right," Harper voiced, and then her smile was back in place as she released a breath with the words, "That's fine. That's fine."

Her cousin was no doubt having the flashing images of using her signature glittering smile like the charm it was. With those unversed in the Harper van der Woodsen-Humphrey way of life, it could practically melt butter. It didn't cut much slack at all with Effy's grandmother, however, as Eleanor simply took one look at the blonde, proclaimed, "You're getting more and more like your mother each day" and then carried on with her business. It was a fact that her cousin seemed to overlook whenever these times were mentioned; either that or she simply deemed them _additions_ to the collection of compliments she readily received from anyone and everyone during her daily life.

Her own mother said whatever power her Aunt Serena had over her grandmother must've skipped a generation, because Harper was nothing more than a pretty face to the elder Waldorf. Though she could tell her mother had to stop herself from smiling when she'd proclaimed this; Effy herself garnered more of her grandmother's attention at times than her Grandpa Cyrus did.

She quirked an eyebrow at her cousin, eyeing her for a moment, before shrugging off the thought and suggesting instead, "Shall we have someone pick these up later then?"

Harper followed her gaze to the garments in the sales assistant's hands and then looked sheepishly across at her, "We're going to be really late aren't we?"

"Yes, we are," she replied succinctly.

The blonde bit her lip and the brunette turned to the woman standing next to them.

"Someone will be in later to collect them and settle the payment," she informed the sales assistant.

"Miss, I can't just keep pieces like these on hold, I have other customers to think of," was the response, made somewhat apologetically.

She ignored the slight intake of breath that accompanied the amused smile her cousin was failing miserably to hide.

"You can put them under _Bass_," was her answer to that; a slight tilt of the head as she sent a smug smirk across to the ignorant sales assistant.

And with that she turned and strode away, catching sight of the swish of blonde hair as her cousin fell into step with her mere moments later.

.

He tilted his head as he caught sight of the two females striding across the shop floor. The brunette – the feisty one, as he'd deemed her, despite her more _conservative_ outfit – was wearing a high-waisted knee-length black leather skirt with the polo neck tucked into the waistband. It allowed him a modest view of her slender form. His favorite part, however, was the v-shape cut at the back along with the horizontal zip that stretched down quite a large span of the material.

His smirk grew wider.

The spindle-like heels of her ankle boots only served to make those legs of hers all the more delectable; though granted they were nowhere near as long as her counterpart's.

The blonde had on what looked like an oversized gray t-shirt, if he was honest; yet with the long, overlapping necklaces, the large coral clutch in her hand and the matching coral and tan sandals; she made it look nothing short of amazing.

Evidently, however, he was enjoying his view a little _too_ much, as he soon found himself in the company of a large burly man who obstructed his view and another form that cast a shadow across his shoulder to stretch before him.

He turned his head to the side and surveyed the sandy-haired boy who had stepped in line next to him.

"I wouldn't stare too long if I was you," was the advice, and then the new addition turned to meet his eyes.

"Oh really?" His eyebrow rose almost of its own accord, his smirk growing once more. "And why would that be?"

"Because apart from the fact Duncan doesn't appreciate it," a female voice cut in then. "_I_ don't appreciate it."

It was the brunette; and she looked pretty annoyed.

She hit him with her black studded clutch. Hard.

"In my experience, staring that long is synonymous with stalking," she informed him tartly.

He coughed then, clearing his throat.

And with his lips still curved at the edges, he commented, "I don't believe we've been properly introduced."

She continued to stare at him, her expression betraying nothing.

"I'm Stratton Sparks."

He flashed the brunette a charming smile, and then looked from her to the others.

"Sparks as in Georgina?" was her rapid response. "As in the bitch who's been after my father since they were like _twelve_?"

She wrinkled her nose, as she looked him up and down, raising a perfectly styled eyebrow in question.

"That sounds about right, only you might want to change that to the past tense. She's dead, been dead for more than twelve years actually," Stratton merely told her in response, aiming for nonchalance and refusing to dwell on his success rate.

It wasn't the entire truth, of course, but he doubted they'd ever know; if he willed it enough, sometimes he could even convince himself that it was true.

"Oh, well, I'm sorry," she offered at that, rolling her shoulders slightly.

"No you're not," he stated, gaze narrowing in on her as he tilted his head to survey her further.

"You're right, I'm not," the brunette acquiesced. "Well, not _really_."

"Wow, Eff, that was really bitchy," the blonde by her side commented then, and he shifted his attention over to her.

The brunette, who was at least a head-and-shoulders smaller than her counterpart, practically dismissed the girl's remark with a roll of the palest blue eyes he'd ever seen and the words, "Well, I can hardly feel sorry for the death of a woman who practically stalked my father for years – not to mention terrorized _both_ our mothers."

She returned her attention to him after a quick look to the blonde.

"The '_not really_' was simply in accordance with the polite sympathy directed at a child losing his mother," she ended.

Stratton raised his own eyebrow in expectation at that, the corner of his lips quirking upwards, as he posed the question. "And you all are?"

"I'm Hollis Archibald." The hand that took his first was that of the other male; and then his grip tightened, a warning in itself, as he went on, "And this is my cousin, and my little sister."

The blonde girl clucked her teeth and rolled her eyes at that. "Sister? – we share a mother, Hollis. A fact you seem rather reluctant to acknowledge, given that I'm fairly certain your name has a _hyphen_ in it."

The brunette smirked at that, looking more than a little amused by the exchange between the _siblings_, remarking, "Let go of his hand, Hollis. We have hired protection, we don't need your improvised efforts."

Apparently both girls had a little spunk in them; he definitely wasn't adverse to that discovery.

After his hand was free, it was taken up by the leggy blonde, who threw him an almost-blinding smile as she announced, "I'm Harper Humphrey-van der Woodsen."

He turned expectantly to the petite brunette when the handshake ended, and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Effy Bass," she informed him, with a gaze so clear it cut straight through him. "Charmed, I'm sure."

Stratton smirked at her, words dancing across his tongue, as he obliged with the single phrase, "Oh, but of course."

.

"So, Hollis," _his_ _sister_ looked up at him, an expectant look in her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He cleared his throat and replied, "Getting a birthday present for Effy."

He nodded to the brunette before him, who simply smirked back at him; they both knew he'd need serious help with such an endeavor.

His father had sent him with his sister – not the blonde standing before him, his _other_ sister – to go and meet up with their younger brother and get his cousin a birthday present. The elder had failed at scolding him for his lateness in doing so; the laughter had broken through and he'd been pulled into a hug as his father had told him that he was so very like him.

Naturally, his older sister had gone off to meet up with her boyfriend – who was technically his, well _their;_ if they were going for the complete family thing, cousin. Where his brother was would be anyone's guess; _he'd _guess that Aston was with Anna and Gallagher, the company of the oldest of their siblings apparently preferable to his own in his younger brother's opinion.

So Hollis had been left to wander the store in search of something _he_ thought his _other_ cousin would like; the darker haired, harder edged, female one. It was a failed mission before it had even begun.

And then he saw the girl of the moment step into view and a very familiar – or not so, as of late – blonde, one clipped heel behind. Their appearance before him, as he gave the tall brown-haired stranger who was watching their every move some _friendly advice_, was quite the bonus.

Well, depending on how you looked at it.

"You won't find anything I want in here," his cousin informed him, casting a cursive glance across the space around them.

"Of course I won't," Hollis responded, and she pursed her lips at his tone.

"If you did, it would already be on the gift list; and at this late stage, purchased and waiting to be handed over to yours truly," Effy continued, narrowing her eyes at his dismissive tone.

He exhaled, and tried to implement the whole 'count to ten before you lash out' thing his Dad kept suggesting before a big game.

"So, why don't you take your new friend here," she gestured to the dark-haired male who was still standing next to him, watching the display between them with curious intensity. "And see if you've learned anything about me over the past seventeen years that you can use to buy me a present."

"I'll get the most expensive-looking thing I can find then, is what you're suggesting?" Hollis replied smarmily, raising a cocky eyebrow at her.

His cousin was not amused.

She rolled her eyes at him and clucked her teeth impatiently, looking off to the side as she commented dismissively, "And they say a legacy equates to class."

"I think I may be able to find just the thing you're looking for," a voice interrupted.

Effy's head swiveled round to fit her pale eyes on the male next to him. She didn't say a word, just coolly appraised him with a raised eyebrow.

"If you'll allow me to accompany you on your search," Stratton added.

And then the boy he'd barely just met glanced his way, though Hollis knew he was really seeking the approval of the brunette before them. Everyone always looked for the say-so of Effy, whether they fully realized they were doing so or not.

"I suppose another opinion might be of assistance," Hollis answered slowly, and said nothing further as his cousin rolled her eyes at him and blew out a sigh from the corner of her mouth.

"Of course, I'll want something in return," their newest addition remarked after a moment.

His cousin's eyes lit up, and she smirked in the other boy's direction, raising an eyebrow at this.

"Naturally, it won't compare to the debt you'll score with me for finding you a suitable gift for someone as…" his eyes met the petite brunette's, a few beats passed before the pair broke their deadlock, and Stratton continued, "… _refined_ as your cousin here."

He watched the interaction, and knew his expression was more _WTF?_ than anything else.

Stratton turned back to Hollis long enough to flash him a smile. "But I'm sure you won't suffer too greatly from the endeavor."

"I can't imagine anything could make me suffer as greatly as gift-shopping for our _Darling Effy_," he replied, sending his cousin a quick look.

"That's because you are an idiot and think she's difficult to buy for," _his sister_ cut in then.

The boy beside him let out a short laugh at this and then lifted his hand to his face to touch a finger to his lips, a smile still curving the edges.

Hollis scowled at the blonde. "Anyone who has to make a _list_ to outline the specifics of what their personal gift preferences are, _is_ difficult to buy for."

"Well, if you actually paid attention to anything concerning me, you'd realize that the _specifics_ – as you term them – haven't changed. The essentials remain the same, the intricacies merely change with the seasons," Effy informed him.

The brunette shot him a charming smile, backed by Harper's smug one, which he responded to with a scowl.

"Now, if you're quite done wasting my time," his cousin continued. "I have places to be, which _your sister_ already ensured I'll be late for."

Harper failed in her meager attempt at appearing even somewhat apologetic; Hollis rolled his eyes, how very typical of his sister.

Effy inclined her head to the dark-haired boy next to him, and sent him a smirk as she passed by, saying, "Enjoy your shopping trip."

He caught the glimmer in her eye as her smirk grew when Stratton leaned down and murmured back, "Oh, I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results."

"I suppose I'll see you at the party then," her blonde counterpart directed towards him as she stepped away from the two boys to follow her best friend, casting him a backward glance. "_Brother_."

Hollis caught sight of his own _sidekick_ bending to retrieve something from near his foot, but couldn't make out what it was; and the brown-haired boy had it pocketed before he could really make heads-or-tails of the action anyway.

When the two girls were out of immediate earshot he looked to the boy next to him to find him staring after the pair, a smirk on his face and a certain look in his eye that he couldn't quite decipher.

Their gazes locked a moment later and the dark-haired teenager flashed him a quick wide grin, before taking a decisive step forward; it was like he had no choice but to follow.

.

"I need to buy something," he announced to the female standing on the opposite side of the counter.

"What _kind_ of something?" was her reply, and she looked at him as if she was trying not to roll her eyes at his obtuse choice of words.

"A present," was his quick retort.

"Who's it for?" she asked him then, her head cocked sassily to the side.

He smirked at her then, rusty hair falling across his eyes, as he answered, "It's for an idiot."

"Rochester Baizen," a female voice spoke up from behind him at that.

He turned around slowly; made a show of dragging his gaze from the tips of her black buckled boot-clad toes all the way up to the sparkling jewel sitting neatly off to the side amidst her mahogany curls.

"Ooh, are we onto full-name status now?" he raised an eyebrow in her direction, mischief toning his speech.

Her gaze narrowed and she held up a finger to silence him.

His lips spread into a wide grin, and he conceded, "Effy Bass."

She pursed her lips and rolled her eyes at him; her arms crossed over her chest, her head turned to the side. Then she clucked her teeth as she complied, "Chet."

He smirked at her then. "What is this, Effy? You stalking me now?"

"Girl idiot or guy idiot?" the female behind the counter interrupted the pair then.

Chet didn't turn around, only kept his eyes locked with the brunette as she merely raised an eyebrow at him. "Girl," he said, his smirk growing.

Effy didn't seem impressed.

"Touché?" he offered at that and she rolled her eyes again.

"I'll give you a hint – it better be something shiny and expensive," she hit back at him with a smug smile. "After all, you have a lot to apologize for."

He laughed then, and again she raised a perfectly styled eyebrow. He sobered instantly: her expression had changed; her eyes had that hard edge.

"Come on, Effy. I made one mistake," he tried to appeal to her; though he knew it would most likely be futile. "We didn't need to break up over it."

"Yes, I did need to break up with you. And no actually, you made more than one mistake," she corrected. "_That _one just sealed the deal."

"Alright, so I screwed up – " Chet was cut off in his acknowledgement of his past _indiscretions_ with Effy calling him out on said _indiscretions._

"You kissed my best friend – who also happens to be my cousin – right in front of me!" the brunette exclaimed.

He opened his mouth to reply, when she beat him to it once again.

"I'd say 'screwed up' isn't nearly enough of an accurate description for what you did," were her next words.

"Effy, come on – how many times can I say I'm sorry?"

He took a step towards her; she took a step back.

"Obviously more than you already have, since I'm nowhere near ready to forgive you."

She stared him down; despite the fact he had at least a foot height advantage. It still unnerved him at times the amount of power she commanded with a single look.

"You forgave Harper pretty quick."

Chet regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth.

Effy's eyes narrowed. "She's my cousin."

Neither mentioned that if it were any other girl they'd be lucky to get away with 'probation'; he briefly wondered if Harper _was_ on probation.

"Not to mention _you_ were the one who plied her with drink all night," came the brunette's next cutting words. "So she can hardly be held accountable given she most likely didn't have a clue what she was doing."

"Oh, she most definitely knew what she was doing. She's not as innocent as you all make her out to be, you know," he countered.

As soon as he'd released the words, he figured he might as well go all the way. After all, Effy didn't do anything by halves, least of all fury.

"She has…" His smirk crept higher, and he lifted his chin and met her eyes again. "Hidden depths."

"Oh, I'm sorry," the brunette scoffed at that. "I didn't realize you'd slept with her too."

Chet Baizen had always prized himself on being a good liar, but looking at Effy now; he knew she could see right through any façade he was trying to put up. She always did have that discernible habit of knowing when people were hiding something.

"Oh my God," she breathed out then, realization flooding across her features. "You slept with her. You slept with Harper."

She turned away from him as he reached out for her. "Effy!"

"Don't touch me!" she growled menacingly. "Don't come anywhere near me."

Chet watched her go and drew a hand across his face, muttering, "Shit!"

When he turned back around, heaving a sigh, the female sales assistant was removing the items from the counter.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he questioned suddenly. "What was wrong with those ones?"

"If you want back in her good graces," she told him then, with a small knowing smile. "You're going to need something a lot more shiny and a lot more expensive."

.

He'd always found shopping to be a fascinating pastime. His sisters and his best friend all seemed to excel at it as if it was the most revered of art forms; his 'Aunts' seemingly having instilled the importance of such an activity on them since birth.

He mostly just enjoyed the observation aspect it awarded him.

He liked seeing their reactions, observing how their moods could change with the flash of a cobalt blue shift dress in their peripheral vision or the sight of a new pair of heels set high on a pedestal for all to covet and admire. He found it was an opportunity, much like a public airport, for him to people-watch: to see how the other half lived, so to speak.

"Hey, small fry!" was the exclamation from next to him.

He turned to see his best friend look up just in time to stop before she came into contact with the solid chest of her older cousin.

"What's the rush?" Gallagher asked; an easy smile painted across his face.

The crinkling of his brows, and the tightening of the blonde's hands on the brunette's upper arms did not go unnoticed by him; he counted _people-watching_ amongst his hobbies, after all.

"_Eff_."

His sister's boyfriend, i.e. his best friend's cousin (the family dynamics confused even him sometimes), had lowered his voice, his eyes seeking out hers.

When she looked up, he noticed the change immediately; her guard was up, but the glimmer in her pale blue eyes remained.

"Hey Effy!" he took a step forward and greeted her; sensing her need for ignorance to whatever the 'situation' was as well as he suspected the elder boy did. It was hard to be oblivious to the wants and needs of Effy Bass if you truly took the time to get to know her; even if you didn't, she was difficult to ignore in any sense really.

"Aston Abrams-Archibald," she pronounced teasingly, smiling brightly back at him, and moving out of Gallagher's hold to embrace him instead. "Only one of my favorite people."

"No Harper with you?" Aston asked, a joking lilt in his own voice as he looked past her for the familiar sight of her blonde companion; she was like a constant presence by the girl's side. He should know; by default of his friendship with the brunette, she was practically a constant presence by his own.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere," was his best friend's reply; and her smile was spread tight across her lips, the words sounding somewhat strained. But Effy Bass did not get to where she was on poor acting skills.

"And Rhonda let you go shopping alone?" he _tut-tut_-ed, a teasing smile tweaking the corners of his mouth.

"They're called _staff_ for a reason, Aston," was her dry reply, though her eyes brightened as she added, "No matter where they may reside."

"Even if that's not in the servant's quarters?" he queried, laughter in his voice.

"Even then," Effy replied.

So he might not be as close to her as they were, but even he knew some _staff_ were more like family to the Basses. Case in point, _Dorota._ Simply doing maid-work did not earn her and her family the position of _personal friends_.

She was acting more like the Effy he was used to, however, so Aston was taking what he could get at that stage.

"Hate to break up this cute little chat, kid-lings," Gallagher broke in then, smiling down at them with more than a hint of mockery on his face, "But some of us have shopping to do."

Both youngsters lifted their gaze to the blonde as he spoke.

"And some people," he continued, and turned to look directly into Effy's eyes then. "Need to go home."

A beat passed and then his best friend quirked a smile up at her cousin. "Not shopping for me I hope. I've just had to give another relative of ours a severe scolding for lack of planned present purchasing."

Gallagher merely blinked at her in return, letting her have her little moment.

"And I would be doing a gross injustice if I let you slide on the matter so soon after," Effy's eyes were alight with mischief as she teased the elder before her.

Aston crinkled his brow, drawing her attention away from her cousin as he queried, "Relative?"

And then it dawned on him.

"Oh, my brother."

She acknowledged his answer as the right one with a slight incline of the head.

Aston smiled. "Take it he hasn't found you a present yet, then?"

He laughed when she merely frowned at him in response.

"Anna abandoned him for Gallagher and then they found me – I haven't even seen Hollis. Tell me he's stressing out over it?"

Effy rolled her eyes at his childish behavior; he couldn't help it, he and _his brother_, well they had a… _healthy rivalry_ so to speak.

"Actually he met someone who offered to help him in his endeavor," she informed him, piquing his interest. "A dark-haired guy, looked about our age. Georgina Sparks's son, no less."

"A fact your Dad will be just _thrilled_ to hear of, I'm sure," he heard his older sister's voice join them at that.

His best friend turned to greet her with a sly smile. "Arianna," she acknowledged, in mock seriousness.

The younger brunette then proceeded to appraise the elder's current look.

"I hope you aren't planning on giving me those shoes as my birthday gift," Effy remarked, eyeing up his sister's black and gold heels in all their glory.

The elder followed her gaze.

"That'd be a bit low-rent," his best friend continued, flashing his sister a grin. "Even for you, Anna darling."

The elder rolled her eyes; apparently Anna was fully aware of where it was leading.

"Although I can see the season's beginning to get to you already," Effy carried on, trailing her gaze down his sister's frame.

His best friend's eyes were the shade of the lightest blue and they dragged past the light brown locks cascading over his sister's black t-shirt; down to her black skinny jeans (the fact that they had lace tie-ups that ran the whole length along the backs of her legs seemed a moot point) and then to the only part of the outfit that the petite teenager seemed to approve of; the heels. Admittedly, even he could see their appeal.

"Black," Effy stated, a smirk curving her lips. "How original."

His sister merely raised an eyebrow at the younger, the action defined despite the soft cut of her hair; framing her face in long, looping curls.

"Quite done are you?" Anna quipped, with an amused look directed at his best friend.

"Oh, I'm never done," Effy returned, that mischievous look in her eyes.

"Where's Harper?" his sister questioned, and only after a longer-than-anticipated moment of silence ensued did she seem to look over his best friend's head and see her boyfriend's hard gaze; a warning.

"I really must find some new company," the younger spoke up then. "All anybody seems to be asking me today is where that incessantly demanding cousin of mine has gotten to."

"Well," Anna approached cautiously; obviously unsure of what she was getting herself into this time. "That's because you two are usually joined at the hip. So the natural assumption is that you can easily account for the other's whereabouts because you're usually doing the same thing."

"Mmm," Effy commented at that. "You'd think so wouldn't you?"

And then she seemed to contemplate what Anna had said; the head tilted to the side his main indication.

"Actually, that's quite an accurate assessment of what's been going on," she added.

There was something in Effy's eyes that seemed to pique all of their attention then, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. That only served to heighten his curiosity, however. In his experience, people only tended to hide the important things.

"Right," Gallagher announced, drawing the attention away from his younger cousin and towards him. "You're late, and we have shopping to do."

He put his hands on her shoulders again then and gave the petite brunette a little nudge forward.

"And because I simply don't trust you not to do serious damage to any of the consumers idly perusing the aisles in this here fine store… " the blonde said.

Effy raised an eyebrow at her cousin over her shoulder, and he sent her back a look that seemed to read: _I've seen who else is in this place, and I know full well what you're capable of when the mood takes you_. Aston had seen him too, Chet Baizen, wandering the aisles; no doubt looking for a gift of his own for the girl currently standing before them.

"… I'm going to escort you right outside myself," Gallagher finished with a wide smile.

"Wonderful," she remarked at that, flashing him a smile of her own.

The elder rolled his eyes at her and started to steer her towards the exit, as she waved her goodbyes.

"I want those shoes, Anna," Effy tossed over her shoulder at the elder, and then shifted her gaze across to him as she added, "And I'll expect your company tomorrow morning at the front gates."

The unspoken message was clear: _Don't make me have to come get you from the boys' corridor._

Aston could only imagine why.

.

She came out from the restroom and found the petite brunette nowhere to be found.

After walking around and asking a few store clerks if they'd seen anyone fitting her cousin's descriptions, one of them informed her that they'd seen a girl who could've been her walking swiftly towards the exit.

She frowned. Effy wouldn't leave her; not when she'd waited around that long already, and stopping then would hardly make them more than five minutes later – if that.

That was when she saw a familiar figure in her line of sight.

"Chet!" she called out to him.

A wide smirk instantly crossed his lips; that amused look in his eyes as she strode towards her, small bag swinging back and forth in his grasp.

"Harper," he returned smoothly.

"You didn't happen to see Effy a few moments ago, did you?" she inquired, tilting her head to coolly survey him.

"Actually yes, I was just picking up a birthday gift for her and she stopped by to give me some tips on how I could make it the best one ever," his smarmy, sarcastic tone did nothing to please her then.

"And pray tell, did you two happen to talk about the night she broke up with you?" the blonde ventured then.

"You mean the night _we_ broke up," he rephrased and she rolled her eyes.

"Whatever," Harper dismissed with a flippant wave of the hand. "Did you talk about it?"

"Of course," Chet told her easily then. "After all, there's nothing more Effy likes to do than to gloat about when she's right about something."

"You're wrong actually, that's not her favorite activity, but nevermind," she wrote off the point.

Harper shook her head to try and focus herself on the task at hand once more.

Raising her head to meet her eyes, she questioned slowly, "Did Effy find out about what happened between us?"

"I reckon she knew all along, she just wanted to make a scene in front of all these people," he told her.

He turned to scan their surroundings as if bored by her very presence, not even bothering to flip the rusty locks from his eyes as they obstructed his gaze; she knew better.

And then he suddenly turned back, holding out his hand as he met her eyes, and snapped his fingers. "Now _that_ is her favorite activity."

"You never really knew her at all, did you Chet?" she remarked, her head tilted to the side as she took the moment to survey him.

And without letting him answer, Harper turned on her heel and walked away.

The blonde rolled her eyes, heaving a sigh, and muttering to herself, "Eff should thank me for giving her a good enough reason to get shot of him."

She knew her cousin would never even dream of doing such a thing. She also knew that the brunette didn't need a reason, least of all what could be considered a _good_ one, to do anything. Harper just hoped her cousin wasn't too mad.

She heaved another sigh; who was she kidding? Effy was going to rip her to shreds.

Her long stride came in handy when she made it to the street in what must've been record time. She'd bet Effy had beaten her though, shorter legs and higher heels and all.

The sight not far ahead of her of those familiar mahogany curls cascading _just_ past the shoulder blades made the blonde's breath suddenly catch in her throat.

The driver was holding the door open for the brunette, and when Effy lifted her head; she locked eyes with the blonde. Sometimes she forgot just how cutting her cousin's stare could be; like the shattering of glass.

The moment was broken after mere seconds when her petite form disappeared inside the waiting vehicle.

"Effy!" she called after the brunette.

The slamming of the car door rang in her ears, and her cousin's cold stare filled the recesses of her mind.

The limo streaked by just as she shouted, "I'm sorry!"

It was like apologizing to the wind. It swept right on by without another thought.

And Harper Humphrey-van der Woodsen suddenly realized what it was like to be on the other side of Effy Bass, and all because of _Chet Baizen_.

.

**_Spotted:_ Harper Humphrey-van der Woodsen kicked to the curb by her very own _bff_. Word on the street is that E ignored vdW's calls for attention, right down to the slamming of the car door. And as the limo streaked by, vdW was left without even a parting wave.**

**You know what they say? The feud between bffs are over before they've begun; the feud between families sparks a battle to the death.**

**I advise picking a side, because things are about to get ugly.**

**We all know loyalty means everything to our favorite heiress, and I can smell the blood in the air already.**

**You know you love me.  
****xoxo  
****Gossip Girl**

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

A/N: The order of this part went:  
Effy Bass – Stratton Sparks – Hollis (van der Woodsen-)Archibald – Rochester 'Chet' Baizen – Aston Abrams-Archibald – Harper Humphrey-van der Woodsen

All the ages, and how they all relate to one another and whatnot will be explained in the following chapters.  
Also, the chapters to follow will not be written in the same way as this, in the sense that it should hopefully be much clearer who everyone is – there will be less use of 'he/she' and more names ;)  
Also, also, each chapter will focus mainly on one character; it will include other characters, such as their parents and friends and siblings or whatnot. And it may not necessarily be written in the same way, now that the characters have been introduced. It will all lead up to the events in the prologue.

Quotes: "What do you want?" "To buy something." "What?" "A present." "Who's it for?" "It's for an idiot." "A guy idiot or a girl idiot?" "A girl." – Dear Wendy

Thanks so much for reading – please let me know what you think, it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	3. Chapter 1: Effy

Chapter One: Effy – You're My Parachute, Catch Me As I Fall

_"There are admirable potentialities in every human being. Believe in your strength and your youth. Learn to repeat endlessly to yourself, 'It all depends on me.'"_  
**_Andre Gide_**

.

Monty was sitting on his big sister's bed, fiddling with the comforter, legs swinging off the end of the mattress. He blew out a loud sigh. He'd followed her in the hope that he might actually be able to talk to her, _see_ her even; but she'd yet to emerge from the en suite. And she'd been in there _ages_.

Of course he followed her when she blew them all off: he was naturally curious, a trait he apparently inherited at birth; but it was concern for her that _really_ drove him up the stairs and into Effy's bedroom. He did care for her, after all; she was his big sister. His brother refused to join him, saying that it was entirely too quiet to be at all remotely interesting, but that he'd be there in a flash at the first sound of something being even slightly damaged.

Catch's idea of entertainment was chaos, preferably carefully-controlled-by-his-own-hand chaos. Monty knew, however, that when it came to their sister, Effy was far more dangerous when she was quietly seething. Loud noise attracted attention, and she did not make a habit of partaking in that particular custom. She was a Bass, true; but she was also a Waldorf.

And while it wasn't just the notion that their mother would wring all their necks if they made a scene against her behest _(as a rule: people will always talk, but that doesn't mean you need to give them something to talk about)_ it was also common knowledge that scheming was best adopted under the guise of silence. The best plans succeeded through secrecy, he knew that just as well as his siblings, and it would do you no good to announce said plans to the crowds before you've even put the wheels into motion.

He was broken from his thoughts by the vibrations running from one side of the bed to the other. When the ringing started, he knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it any longer, even if his sister could. He reached across to where his sister's clutch lay open on the comforter and retrieved the discarded phone. Wincing as he read the caller ID, he tried to brace himself before he accepted the call.

"Elizabeth Serena Bass! How _dare_ you leave a message with my assistant that you will be sending someone over to pick up the dress _I_ created specifically for_ you_ for _your_ birthday!"

The elder's shrill voice cut straight through the device and along the canal of his ear.

"Not only is it _extremely _disrespectful to me, but it is also – "

"Umm, Gran?"

He was somewhat hesitant as he cut off his grandmother's fuming tirade. He'd seen his mother angry sometimes, and he had no doubt that she'd inherited it from her own mother.

"Montgomery," the elder acknowledged; and instantly recognizing her middle-grandson's voice, her tone softened accordingly.

Monty cleared his throat before informing her, "Effy's not taking calls at the minute."

"What do you mean she's not taking calls? Why are you answering her phone? Put her on, Montgomery, I want to speak to her right this instant," was the only answer he received for his efforts.

"She's locked herself in the bathroom," the fourteen-year-old said next. "She came home a while ago, but she was _supposed _to be going shopping with Harper after school and she really wasn't gone that long, so something must've happened because you _know_ when Effy shops – she _shops_. But when she came back, she went straight up the stairs and into the bathroom, and hasn't been out since. And it's _been_ ages, Gran."

"Call your mother." The order was instantaneous, telling him this was something he shouldn't dispute with her.

He did so anyway, however, simply because he was a Bass; and they did it really without thinking most of the time.

"I don't think she's going to try anything – I think she's just upset," he told her, his brow wrinkling in slight uncertainty even as the words left his mouth. "I think she might be having a shower, even. The water's been running awhile."

"Montgomery," she addressed him in an even stronger tone than before. "Do as I say and phone your mother."

He went to end the call, when he heard the front door close and Rhonda, their pseudo-nanny-slash-maid (she preferred the term _matron_), greet the newest house occupant.

"Um, Gran," Monty put the phone back to his ear. "Dad's home."

"Wonderful," his grandmother breathed out.

It took him a moment to try and work out if she was genuinely grateful for this turn of events or not.

"Locate your brother from wherever he is before he commits some nefarious action or other and come over to the office and pick up your sister's birthday dress," she told him then.

"But Catch – " he tried to protest, knowing what his brother would say to that; he was far more obedient and obliging than the elder and there was only a year between them.

"Cathmor will do as he is told," his grandmother's tone left no room for argument.

He agreed and hung up the phone just as his dad passed through the doorway.

"What are you doing in here?" the elder asked; his tone mildly amused as he looked around the empty room.

His dad knew as they all did; his sister was accommodating, but she wasn't _that_ accommodating.

"Where's your sister?" the elder asked of him then.

Monty pointed wordlessly to the bathroom and watched in slight trepidation as his dad's gaze shot across to the closed door, and after a few beats a frown marred his features.

The fourteen-year-old scuttled off the bed and took the opportunity to try and leave, but his dad caught him by the arm, eyes still transfixed on the solid white barrier between them and her.

"How long has she been in there?" he questioned.

"A while," Monty replied vaguely, and his dad turned slowly to face him.

"Where are you going?" the elder queried him then, his head tilted to survey his son.

"Gran told me I was to go collect Effy's dress from her office, since she didn't get it," he replied.

"She didn't get her dress," he slowly repeated.

"Like I said," the teenager reiterated. "She's been in there a while."

"Ok, I'll sort it out," his dad assured him.

And then Monty felt his dad's hand squeeze his shoulder and then pat him on the head in a gesture of affection and as a nudge for him to get going.

"Make sure you take your brother," his dad said after him.

He smirked up at the elder, "Gran's already on it."

"Of course she is," his dad said, and Monty suspected it was more to himself than his son when he saw the elder release a deep sigh, his expression heavy, as he stepped further into the room. "She's been through this before."

And with that he left his dad to sort out whatever mess his sister had gotten herself into this time. Ok, so that wasn't exactly fair. Generally mess happened _around_ Effy, but still, she was always involved somehow. Drama followed his sister like girls followed their cousin Gallagher: in plentiful abundance.

.

Chuck Bass stood on the other side of his daughter's bathroom door; heard the shower running, could just make out the sobs above the streaming water, and steeled himself for what he would find on the other side.

He knocked on the door, more as a formality than anything else, and unsurprisingly received no answer.

A sigh blew out from between his lips and he ran a ragged hand across his face and through his hair. And then he heard it: the soft cry of his daughter calling his name.

"Daddy?" she appealed to him; and he was through the door mere moments later.

She was sitting in the middle of the large stone wall shower, knees drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly round herself with her chin tucked beneath.

Her eyes drew upwards and he almost choked on the breath he was taking; she looked so small within the large expanse of the shower, so pale against the yellowed stone that encased her, so young as she drowned in the sodden clothes that bound her. She looked heartbroken.

"Oh, Eff," he breathed out and made his way instantly towards her, the water running from the shower lapping at his feet.

When he reached her, he immediately enveloped her within his arms, holding her tight, holding her close. She unfurled herself almost instantly; turning in his embrace, her head fell onto his chest and her small fingers fisted a handful of the material of his shirt. Her knuckles were practically white with the ferocity with which she held onto him, but he couldn't bear to pry her fingers away, as if to release her would be to take away her only lifeline.

When she released a low whimper, he kissed her wet hair and strengthened his hold of her. She hiccupped, and then gasped – over and over – seemed to be unable to catch her breath and he was frozen for a moment; because she was supposed to be the stable one, her brother the one who stole their air for his own use.

He rubbed her back, soothingly, and quieted her, calmed her down: because she wasn't as bad as Catch, never had been and never would be, if he could help it. And after a few moments she started to breathe somewhat more easily once again, and so did he.

The showerhead rained torrents over them both and soon his tie was fused to his shirt and his shirt was sticking to him like a second-skin, his belt heavy and weighing down on his pants that were like paste on his legs. He reached up and across and turned the dial on the wall to increase the heat of the water, and then repositioned his arms around his daughter.

He didn't ask her what had happened, just held her and let her talk when she was ready. And she did, eventually. It was as if the shock of what had happened, the betrayal of whatever had occurred – because only something like that could have reduced his daughter to _this_ – had shaken her so much that her breath was taken along with everything else.

"I wasn't going to do anything," she spoke in a quiet voice.

He knew the words were meant as a reassurance, but she didn't meet his eyes and the worry still gnawed at his bones.

"I just needed to be clean," his daughter said next and his insides clenched. "I just needed to wash every part of him – every part of _them_ from my skin."

And that was when she looked up at him; and he met her glassy eyes and saw the raw pain that emanated from them.

"It wasn't just a kiss," Effy told him, and then released a low, almost bitter, laugh. "It never is with Harper, so I don't know why I believed her when she said that was all it was, don't know why I was so surprised when I found out it wasn't, either."

He held her tighter, anticipating the moment as it drew nearer.

"And it's not the fact that they kissed, or even that they slept together, or that they did it behind my back," she said then.

He suddenly knew what was coming, what would break his daughter every time.

"It's that they lied about it," and her voice shook with anger. "Right to my face."

.

Blair Bass heard her son grumbling away to his brother, the younger throwing in the occasional word to try and appease him, as soon as she stepped out the car.

"Boys," she greeted them with a smile, and watched in amusement as they both froze for that split-second on the top step, before turning to face her.

"Mom," they both replied in perfect sync; though Monty's had that softer, less drawn-out feature to it than his brother's.

"Why do you look so guilty?" Blair inquired with a raised eyebrow as she ascended the stairs to reach them.

"Must you always think the worst of us, mother?" Catch asked to that, face schooled into an expression of sheer innocence that she didn't buy into for even a moment.

"Cathmor, please." She rolled her eyes at her eldest son, stepping by him to walk through the front door. "I'm your mother, give me a modicum of the respect that that alone deserves."

Blair dropped her bags to the floor by the entrance and turned to face her two eldest boys, hands on the hips.

"So, are you going to tell me why you're holding a dress carrier with your Grandmother's insignia on the front, like it's the most precious thing that's ever been bestowed upon you? Or am I going to have to venture a guess?"

Silence ensued.

She turned to the younger of the two and prompted, "Montgomery?"

He took a deep breath, and then exhaled it immediately when his brother elbowed him in the ribs, muttering, "You always cave so easily."

Blair frowned at the eldest of her boys, and countered, "Yes, because you hold out so much longer when it's your father doing the questioning?"

She raised an eyebrow at him and he shot her a dark look.

"Less of the hostility, Cathmor, if you will," she said to him at that. "Well?"

"Effy's upstairs," Catch informed her then, in a clipped tone that lacked antagonism; which was his usual tenor. "She came home early from shopping with Harper and locked herself in the bathroom. So we got sent to Gran's to pick up her dress for her party 'cause she didn't bother. Dad's in with her now."

"I see," Blair responded, processing the words and trying not to jump immediately to conclusions.

"Apparently she left Harp stranded on Fifth Avenue, right outside – "

"How do you know that?" Monty cut his brother off. "I didn't even know that, and I _know_ she didn't tell you because I was sitting in her room the whole time and you didn't come near it once."

"Some off us subscribe to Gossip Girl, little brother," Catch informed him smugly. "You should really invest in it yourself, you know; quite the fountain of knowledge."

"You kids and that incessant woman," Blair voiced then. "Honestly she was bad enough during our high school years, nevermind rehashing it with you lot."

"Oh, I know, Mom," her eldest son remarked at that with a smirk all too akin to his father's. "The archives make for very interesting reading; not quite what you'd maybe call _bedtime reading_, but insightful nonetheless."

"You," she pointed at Catch then. "Stop your mouth from moving."

His smirk turned into a fully-fledged grin at that.

"And you," she turned to Monty. "Don't bother subscribing. Your mind is better filled with other things than what that _stalker_ terms _newsworthy_."

Monty nodded dutifully at his mother's request.

"Now I have to go upstairs and try find out what is wrong with your sister. Please try not to destroy anything while you're out of my immediate line of sight," she asked of them, the slightest trace of amusement lilting her words, and she turned to make her way up the stairs to her daughter's room.

"You might want to direct your questions towards the topic of her recent break-up," Catch called out then, and his mother turned slowly to face him once more.

"And why might I want to do that?" Blair inquired.

"Because he may or may not be a cheating scumbag," her eldest son ventured, voice peaking at the end, proclaiming innocence.

"I see," Blair responded then. "And was this little piece of information on Gossip Girl, per chance?"

"God no!" Catch looked almost affronted at the mere suggestion of such a thing; definitely his father's son. "No, Jessica Horncastle thought she overheard them earlier while she was shopping. Apparently Eff jumped from green to red on the Threat Level in a matter of minutes."

She'd raised an eyebrow at his use of '_thought_': she knew from the life-experience that people _knew_ when the elite were around, they didn't mistake those sorts of things and they certainly didn't _imagine_ they were anyone other than who they really were. If this girl thought she'd seen Effy and her ex-boyfriend having a heated _dispute_ then that is likely exactly what she saw.

"But don't you worry, Mom," her eldest son added, and flashed his mother a brilliant smile. "She won't be telling anyone else that."

"I don't even want to know," Blair remarked at that. "That is your father's department, and right now I have to go deal with your sister, so I definitely won't be broaching the subject with you."

"It's alright, Mom, I – " he started to give her a smart comment in return.

"Don't say it," she warned him, holding up a hand to halt his words as she made her way up the last section of stairs. "Don't even think it."

She heard his laughter as she walked the corridor to her daughter's room; _far _too like his father. Blair shook her head at the thought, and a smile crossed her lips; and then she saw the scene in her little girl's bedroom, through the partially open doorway, and she sobered instantly.

The room was eerily silent, except for the occasional hiccup that escaped from her daughter's lips as she lay in her father's arms.

He looked up when she stepped across the threshold and sent her a flickering smile; it warmed her heart a little.

She moved nearer the bed and took a seat on the other side of their baby girl, felt the mattress deflate beneath her as she moved closer, stroking a hand through her daughter's loose brown curls as they fell over the silk of her robe.

"Tell me this isn't about a boy," she said almost dejectedly, releasing a soft sigh as she looked up into her husband's eyes.

"Oh, I'd wager a guess that he's most definitely a _man_ now that he's bagged vdW," her daughter's stony voice answered her; and she realized from the nickname Effy used that she was referencing her cousin as a large part of the story.

"Rochester slept with Harper?" Blair asked at that, because sometimes it was best just to cut straight to the point with her daughter.

"And then lied about it," Effy bit out at that; and she recognized the moment for what it was, far too close to her own past to ever affect her daughter in the same way.

"I see," she voiced then, her fingers still buried in her daughter's luscious locks, damp from a shower.

"I hate this," her sixteen-almost-seventeen-year-old let out a moment later. "I get Chet lying to me – on some level he actually did care for me, even if it was the escape from my wrath and the continuation of an 'easy' life that likely made him do it."

She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"But Harper's more than my best friend, she's my cousin, she's family," Effy said, hurt and confusion creeping across her lips as she spoke. "Families are supposed to stick together. That's the whole point; that's what sets them apart. That's what should have made the difference between her and him. _She_ should have told me. Hell, she shouldn't have done it to begin with; but she's such a harpy she can never help herself, so I shouldn't have expected anything less just for the guy I was dating."

Her daughter took a shuddering breath.

"She should have told me," her daughter repeated, her voice breaking over the words.

It wasn't the time to dispense advice, to recount tales of old that stretched across betrayals and forgiveness and beyond; so she did what her husband constantly did for her, what her family never let her forget.

She reminded her daughter who she was; let her know what was important, forever and always.

"Your brother will be home soon, and it will upset him to see you like this," Blair told her daughter.

She saw the transformation in the teenager before the words even had time to fully penetrate the space.

"Make sure you clean your face before he arrives," she advised then, and gave her daughter a smile. "As much as I'm sure he would gladly kiss away your tears, he would much rather see you smile."

"He shouldn't see anything less," Effy replied; and Blair took the moment to marvel at the wondrous creation before her.

She loved that they did that to each other; her children; that they were there for each other, that they valued each other; that their love for one another could overcome anything that was thrown their way.

Blair Bass couldn't have been more proud of her children; and it made her heart swell that little bit more at the thought, because she did that. She created them. She managed to achieve perfection; and it was never more obvious than when they put each other before themselves.

.

Yvonne had barely entered the foyer when little Ernie had torn his hand from hers and taken off in a running sprint up the stairs, shouting his sister's name.

The twenty-two-year-old spotted a familiar bag by the entrance and took off in a quick sprint after the child, chanting his name in a hushed whisper.

"Ernie!" she hissed as she ran after him.

"Ernest Bartholomew Bass! _What_ have you been told about running off like that? Nevermind around this house?" came his mother's voice mere moments later.

The young woman came to a screeching halt right behind the boy, who was standing looking up at his mother with a slight sheepish expression atop a light smirk.

"I'm going to see Effy, Mommy," he told her in all his childlike glory.

Blair Bass let out an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes, reaching out to place an affectionate hand on her youngest son's head.

"Of course you are," she said to that, and moved her hand to the top of his spine to nudge him forward a touch. "Well in you go then. I dare say she'll be just _thrilled_ to see you."

The five-year-old did just that, but turned mid-way through the door to crinkle his brow at his mother; the words apparently causing thought within the youngster. When his sister called his name, however, he whirled round and had bounded across the carpet and onto the bed next to her in an instant, grinning from ear-to-ear as the teenager wrapped him up in a fierce hug.

"Always the same," their mother marveled, as she watched them, a wistful look across her beautiful features.

The brunette turned a moment later and smiled at the younger female. She reveled in the look; it was one of love, Yvonne knew, and she felt blessed, truly blessed, that the woman before her extended it her way. The woman had loved her since birth, and it made her smile to think of some of her earliest memories and know that they included the brunette. Besides, she had made perfect practice for when the woman had had a baby of her own: granted Yvonne had been five years old when Effy was born, but still, practice all the same.

"How are you, Yvonne?" Blair asked her then, and her lips quirked up that bit higher. "Was my baby boy a darling for you, as always?"

She let out a brief laugh at that, responding in the same tone, "Of course he was."

"I know – sometimes I wonder what she did to get all the sweetness and smiles, too," the elder remarked, a smile crossing her face.

The brunette moved her gaze from her children to Yvonne again.

"Sometimes I swear he saves all the love for her alone," she added.

The sandy-haired young woman shared a smile with the woman she'd known her whole life; the woman whose hardships she'd come to share – at least in part – when she'd offered to help look after her youngest child.

"He's just reacting to the change in medication," she tried to reassure the lady-of-the-manor.

"He's _been_ reacting to the change in medication for years," Blair countered with a wry smile. "I've learned to live with a little less love."

"Is she ok?" Yvonne asked then, head nodding towards where Effy lay in the bed, her little brother tucked in beside her; talking away animatedly to her.

"Always," Blair assured her, that same smile still present. "You know how she is."

"You mean like you?" she raised an eyebrow, an amused look crossing her face.

"No, not like me," the elder responded.

Her voice was low; eyes set on her daughter.

"She's better than I ever was; than I ever could be," Blair told her then.

It felt like one of those moments of wisdom that the elder used to bestow upon the younger, when her mother was off fussing about the maids she'd relinquished her roles to or her father was spying on the doormen via Chuck's real-time video-feeds.

"She gets it from her father," she informed the younger.

"I don't think you give yourself nearly enough credit," Yvonne countered at that. "Mom _still_ tells me tales of what it was like to watch you grow up, to watch you start your own family. She tells me things that I can already see plainly before me, but it only serves to further show just what an amazing woman you are, Blair."

She saw her smile reflected in part on the other woman's face.

"An amazing mother most of all," the younger finished.

The brunette let out a laugh at that. "You only say that because your own mother refuses to divulge those tales about how I tortured her mercilessly. And now I inflict the same pain on my children."

"I'd venture a guess that I'd be a lot more messed up if that was true, given that I was your guinea pig for all things parenting," Yvonne commented with a warm smile that grew when she saw Blair return it.

"Mmm," the brunette murmured, seemingly lost in the memories. "That was an interesting few years."

And then Blair turned to face her.

"Remind your mother that the no-gift rule still applies, will you?" she said. "I know what she's like and my daughter gets enough from her on a daily basis without her spending an inordinate amount of her earnings on a birthday present as well."

Yvonne laughed. "You say that like she'll actually listen to me, and that you weren't the one _paying_ her earnings for years."

"Yes, but since your father flatly refused to allow Chuck and I to pay your college fees, I'd like to think she'd put her money to educating her only daughter rather than buying _my_ daughter trinkets every time something catches her eye that she thinks Effy would like," Blair replied, and she laughed again.

"I'll pass that on, but don't expect it to have any greater an effect than it does any other year you have me do your dirty work," Yvonne told her, amused.

"Dirty work," the elder scoffed over the word. "You _wish_ I included you more in my nefarious affairs; would liven up your little world."

"Ah, but just remember Blair, _God always watching_," she replied laughingly, imitating her mother perfectly.

"I'll send your dress over tomorrow," was all the brunette said to that, and she could tell the elder was amused. "And if your mother says a word of it, tell her I'll uninvite her."

Yvonne mock gasped at that, walking backwards towards the staircase. "You wouldn't!"

Blair twisted her head round to face the younger, eyes dancing with mischief as she replied, "Watch me."

.

When she held her little brother in her arms, everything in the world fell away. Nothing compared to him; nothing ever would. Family reminded her of what was important to her. They were.

He was asleep by her side, nestled under her arm with his head resting on her chest; and the warmth bled from his heart to hers.

"You shouldn't doubt yourself," Catch spoke up, and her gaze lifted from her youngest brother to her eldest. "They don't know you; they don't matter."

"She's our cousin, Catch," she replied automatically, because it had to mean something.

"So?" the fifteen-year-old raised an eyebrow at her. "She shouldn't have slept with him, and she shouldn't have tried to keep it a secret. Baizen's never been known to be a monogamist, but there has to be a line; even if it is common knowledge Harp'll open her legs for anyone, there has to be a line."

She closed her eyes, took a breath in; tried to let his words sink into a place she'd never forget them.

"It's their nature, Eff. You showed him a different way for a while, but you can't change people. They are who they are," her brother continued.

She opened her eyes and met her brother's determined stare.

"And _you_ are Effy Bass," Catch told her emphatically, because _that_ meant something.

"The elusive older sister to the boy who can't be caught, right?" she quipped at that; and watched as his face softened.

"Exactly," he smirked at her, eyes glinting in the light.

She smiled, her mood already lifting in a different manner.

"Besides, I saw Gossip Girl's post on the new kid – friend of our dear cousin, Hollis, is he?" Catch asked, amusement lilting his words. "Boy seemed enraptured by the mere sight of you."

"They always are in the beginning," she remarked offhandedly with a roll of the eyes.

"Well, if I'm wrong about him having potential, at the very least, I'm sure he could provide you with some light entertainment," her brother replied.

"Mmm," she commented at that. "And you'd just love that, wouldn't you?"

He said nothing, which amused her about as much as her envisioned response from him.

"Come on," she prompted of him then, and patted the space on her other side. "We can watch some obnoxious reality-show about teens in our city and discover how the rest of the world view us privileged children with all our money and clothes and all that."

"Purely for sociological purposes," he replied as she reached for the remote and he lay down on the bed.

"Oh, of course," she returned with a smirk.

His eyes narrowed to near slits the moment the face of someone who had come to be _familiar_ to them appeared on the screen, his lip curling in disdain even if his eyes remained fixed to the wall.

She chuckled lightly and nudged him, careful not to jostle the little boy by her side, as she observed, "It fascinates you, how they can hold titles so like our own yet lead seemingly different lives."

"They are nothing like us," he told her simply, and sent her a sideways glance with a smirk. "For one, we have class."

He was going to crush them when he next saw them, those insipid beings that dared breathe the same air as them and then project their findings to the world. They were annoying and it would amuse him; and she couldn't love her brother more; because they weren't just referring to the people on the screen anymore, they were talking about those that actually walked in the same circles as they did.

They were talking about the ones who had wronged her; and he was going to set it right.

She smirked and settled back against the pillows that propped her up; there was a reason family was the most important of all.

.

**_TBC…_**

* * *

A/N: The Bass Family:  
Chuck & Blair = married.  
Elizabeth 'Effy' = nearly 17 years old. Junior.  
Cathmor 'Catch' = 15 years old. Sophomore.  
Montgomery 'Monty' = 14 years old. Freshman.  
Ernest 'Ernie' = 5 years old.

Yvonne = 22 years old, Dorota and Vanya's daughter. College student/Ernie's 'babysitter'.

Also, mega long chapter once again – wasn't intentional and I'm not sure if all the others will be of the same length, but we shall see ;) Hope you liked it.  
Next chapter = Hollis van der Woodsen-Archibald

Thanks so much for reading – and please let me know what you thought, it means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


	4. Chapter 2: Hollis

Yeah, my little toe-dip into the Glee fandom once more has caused my writing bug to bite quite considerably again and apparently it's not letting go. I'm supposed to be studying, but my excuse this time is just that most of this chapter was written already, it just needed certain parts filled, and I do so hate to have unfinished things – ha, believe it or not!  
Hope you enjoy…

A/N: bold = flashbacks

* * *

Chapter Two: Hollis – Someone Like You And All You Know And How You Speak

"_Don't judge a man by his opinions, but what his opinions have made of him."  
**Georg Christoph Lichtenberg**_

.

His daughters were laughing together about something at the other end of the table, and his youngest had grabbed her mother's arm to get her attention, so she would join in with them. Aston sent them a smile as he contentedly ate his breakfast, so his gaze was drawn to his oldest son, pushing the toast around his plate with that sullen look on his face.

"You mom called," Nate announced, directing the words at his eldest boy even though it was fairly obvious whom he was talking to given the Abrams-Archibald family were all present and sitting around the table together.

Sometimes Hollis needed reminding that his family stretched beyond those within the household he currently resided in.

"Oh," his oldest son voiced at that, raising his gaze from his plate enough to catch his father's eyes.

"Yeah, she said your sister was acting really strange last night and wondered if you'd be able to shed any light on what was wrong with her," he continued, and took a bite out of his toast as he waited for his son to reply.

Hollis answered in the form of a disinterested shrug, before mustering the words, "I saw her when I was looking for a present for Effy – she seemed fine."

The teenager lifted his head then, strands of his dirty-blonde hair falling across his eyes.

"You know, the usual Harper: sunshine and smiles on the outside, cold hard bitch barely hidden beneath."

He flashed his father a smile and took a drink of his juice.

"Hollis," Nate started, clearing his throat and meeting Vanessa's eyes when she shot him a concerned look from her seat opposite her husband that then zoned in on his eldest son. "That's not really any way to talk about your sister – and besides, your mom wouldn't be calling to ask for your help if it wasn't important."

"Oh, trust me," the teenager bit out at that. "I know."

There was more hostility in that one statement than Nate cared to dwell on, and he reached over to place his hand on his son's arm; but the blonde boy pulled it out of his grasp before he had the chance.

"There was a blast on Gossip Girl about Effy ditching her on Fifth while they were shopping," his younger son informed him then, finger pointed in the air to punctuate his next words, "_Think_ they had a disagreement."

"Right, well perhaps you could find out and then pass the information on to your brother so he can call Serena and put her mind at ease that this will all blow over soon." Nate looked between his two boys. "Hmm?"

Hollis snorted and muttered into his glass, "Not likely. And _you_ can be the one to call her since you're so interested in talking to her."

Aston just looked at his father, and told him matter-of-factly, "I don't think that'll be happening, Dad. There was an accompanying photo – Harper looked worse than she did when her dog got run over by that cab when we were eleven, and Effy just looked plain pissed."

Aston wasn't even a year younger than his brother and yet he was so _so _different. Despite the fact they'd grown up together, and were forever in close proximity even when Hollis resided at Serena's home and not Nate's; both of his boys appeared to have inherited more of their mothers' genes as opposed to his own. It was times like these, however, that he wished they were a little more like him: because when Serena didn't want to be agreeable she _really _went out of her way to be difficult; and it was only one of the traits Hollis shared with his sister Harper, even if he wouldn't admit as much.

His younger son leaned back in his chair and informed him casually, "You're probably better bracing Aunt Serena for war to break out – that'd appear to be a more apt description of what is likely to ensue."

"Why?" It was his wife that asked; though her eyes met his once again before they settled on their children. "What happened?"

Vanessa's gaze started at their youngest, who shrugged, because as Rory had told them countless times: how was _she_ supposed to know what was going on when they'd forbidden her from subscribing to Gossip Girl _and _all of the older kids liked to pretend she didn't exist.

Anna dismissed her mother's questioning gaze with a roll of her eyes. She might've known, it was more than likely given how close her boyfriend was to his cousin, but she wasn't about to tell them.

"I imagine," Aston's amused voice cut his mother's gaze from his brother straight to him. "Harper did something deplorable again."

"Well, it gets her noticed, right?" Hollis remarked from his own place, and turned slowly to look at his father.

His phone buzzed next to him and his wife frowned across the table at him as he diverted his attention from the matter at hand to whatever the subject of his ringing phone was. "Nate," she said, in warning.

"It's Chuck," he simply replied; as if that was answer enough for breaking the 'no phones at the table' rule he and Vanessa had instilled within their family since before their children were even born.

His wife was not impressed; her scowl told him as such.

"Apparently he's downstairs and he's – " Nate let out a laugh, because it sounded exactly like his best friend; but he rephrased it because he didn't want his wife to get even more annoyed at him, and he _was_ at the table. "He'd sure appreciate if you kids could hurry on down so they could get going. Apparently the limo was offered as your form of transportation to school today."

He smiled sweetly across the table and Vanessa rolled her eyes and released a sigh, clapping her hands together and standing up from the table.

"Ok, kids, time to get moving – we wouldn't want to upset _Uncle Chuck_ before he goes to work, now would we?" she said, giving her husband a pointed look, before directing their youngest daughter towards the door to collect her things, their eldest languidly following suit moments later.

Nate turned to Aston to ask, "Did you know he was here?"

His youngest son had the sense to look mildly abashed, as he admitted vaguely, "Effy might've texted me to tell me she'd be coming by."

"And your mother didn't notice you using your phone at the table?" Nate inquired when his wife was out-of-earshot, and then threw a flash of a smile Aston's way. "You've been spending too much time in the company of Bass."

The housekeeper appeared by the door then, looked directly at the blonde next to him and said, "You have a visitor, Master Hollis."

All three seemed to be surprised by the news and when his eldest son appeared to be eyeing the man with thinly-veiled suspicion, Nate spoke up, prompting, "Who is it?"

"Wouldn't say, Sir," the man responded brusquely. "Just that he was a friend of young Master Hollis here."

"Well, _I'm_ going to see who it is," Aston announced then and sent his brother a grin, before promptly standing up from the table and making his way out of the room.

A beat passed and then Hollis made to imitate his brother's actions when Nate stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"Hollis," he said, his eyes beseeching his son to listen to him. "Your mom's trying here, but you have to give her something to work with."

The blonde teenager let out a sigh and ran a hand over his face. "I know, dad. But it's just – it's always about Harper, you know?"

"No, I don't know." He smiled at his son, and gave him a look that told him he should be of the same opinion. "What I do know is that your mom is trying hard to be there for you even when you've told her you don't want her to be; and that while using your sister as leverage to get you to see that might not always be the best idea, it's also sometimes the only chance she has of speaking to you."

Hollis cast his gaze downward.

"And for the record, I think your mom and Dan are going through some stuff, so you might want to lay off Harper a bit," he added softly.

Hollis rolled his eyes at that. "They're always _going through some stuff_. Honestly, you didn't think it might be a good idea to try and _stop_ them from getting married? They're like a car crash waiting to happen – actually, scratch that – they're like the wreckage of a car crash just waiting to burst into flames."

And it was then whoever was waiting for his son decided to show face.

"Archibald, you in here?" a dark-haired male entered the room.

Hollis drew up to full height and blinked slowly at the visitor. "Stratton – what're you doing here?"

"We have school, right?" the other boy replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And I barely know anyone, but you, so I figured… "

"That you'd go into the lions' den with an ally already at hand," Nate filled in, with a wide grin; he really needed to stop listening to Chuck and Blair and all their analogies. "That's good thinking."

And then he stood and held out his hand for the boy to shake and introduced himself.

"Oh, I know who you are," the teenager cut him off, with a slight smirk that reminded him entirely too much of his best friend during their high-school days. "My grandpa always said it was prudent to familiarize yourself with those in positions of power before you set foot on foreign land. Well, so to speak."

"Right," Nate pronounced slowly and saw his son roll his eyes at the other boy.

"You're so weird," Hollis told him, and it was the dark-haired teenager's turn to roll his eyes.

"Of course I am, because doing what I just said doesn't make any sense at all, does it?" their newest addition replied sarcastically.

And then he turned his attention back to Nate and flashed him a dazzling smile, which worked its magic almost instantly.

"Stratton Sparks. Pleased to meet your acquaintance."

.

"So why are you really here?" the blonde asked as they left the room.

Stratton turned to look at his _friend _at that. "What? Not trust what I just told you and your Daddy dearest?"

"Don't do that," Hollis hissed at him then.

"What?" he returned, with the lift of an eyebrow.

"Don't turn like that – don't be disrespectful to my dad. Just don't," the blonde answered.

"Alright," Stratton responded slowly, eyeing his _friend_. "I apologize."

"It's fine, it's just – I didn't think you'd want to hang around with me after yesterday," Hollis told him, and his gaze shifted to the ground as he shuffled his feet across the hall.

Stratton frowned, and then his lips quirked up slightly as he remarked, almost in disbelief, "You're not used to people giving you much attention, are you?"

"What?" The blonde's head shot up at that, confusion knitting his brow.

"Yesterday was a difference in opinions," he explained, and gave the other boy a half-shrug. "Different cultures, different attitudes – it's bound to happen."

The blonde continued to eye him.

"Besides," Stratton flashed the taller a quick grin, thinking over the occurrences of the previous day. "Differences make for healthy competition."

"**I can't get her that!" Hollis exclaimed, and Stratton doubted he was actually inspecting the necklace itself, but rather the price attached.**

"**Why not?" he asked, frowning at the other boy, because it really _didn't_ make any sense.**

"**Well, for one it's far too expensive," the blonde answered, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.**

**"You're rich, with a legacy that extends back decades, what does money matter to you?" came his retort, if a little biting.**

"**It doesn't."**

"**Well, then."**

"**I'm just not spending that on my cousin," Hollis expanded, just that little bit extra.**

"**Why not?" he demanded, becoming more frustrated by the minute.**

"**I'm just not, ok?" the blonde replied, staring hard into his eyes and breathing heavily. Apparently defending his actions took a lot out of him.**

**Except Stratton had no plans to back down; at least, not right then, he didn't.**

"**No, it's not ok. We just spent the better part of the past hour looking for something _you_ think would be acceptable to buy for your cousin, and we finally find something that is _more _than suitable, by the way, and you dismiss it because of the price. No," he answered, his jaw clicking. "Spill. Now."**

"**I'm not buying it for her. End of," Hollis replied, and turned to walk off.**

**The brown-haired boy reached out and grabbed the other, hard. "That's not the end of this conversation. I want to know why. Now tell me."**

"**Because she's not worth it!" the blonde finally let out.**

**Frustrated, he dragged his hands through his sand-colored hair.**

**Hollis's voice deflated slightly as he said it again: as if repetition would make Stratton – and anyone else who would listen – agree with him. "Effy's not worth it."**

"**Surely you can't mean that. Have you _seen_ the girl?" Stratton scoffed, raising an eyebrow at the other boy, because he could not _believe_ what he was actually hearing.**

"**Of course I've seen her! I've been forced to spend time with her practically every day since she was born. I've seen her, and I'm telling you, she doesn't deserve all this time and effort and money being lavished upon her. She just doesn't," Hollis was adamant with his point; Stratton could hear it in his voice, see it in the hard gaze he threw across the room, the clenching of his fists.**

"**Wow," Stratton released a breath, his lips twisting into a smile as he whistled. "You really hate her, don't you?"**

"**Hate would imply I care for her, even on some minute level, and I don't," the blonde dismissed with a glance in his direction.**

"**You don't mean that. And yes, you do," the brown-haired boy countered easily, watching the other closely.**

"**How would you know? I only just met you," Hollis said, annoyed. "And what is this anyway? Why are you so interested? What's it to you if I don't get on with her?"**

"**I'm not, I couldn't care less if you had some sordid past together and that's why you're so bitter. This was simply a business deal, and you fulfilled your side of it, so this is me accomplishing mine," Stratton replied, with a half-hearted shrug.**

**The blonde continued to eye him, breathing heavily.**

"**Look, buy the necklace or don't buy the necklace, I don't particularly care. Your family dynamics are your own business, but for what it's worth; I think you're wrong about your cousin."**

**The other boy shifted in his place, diverting his gaze from Stratton to the floor and then back to Stratton again.**

"**And if I really wanted to show you just how much more I know about her than you, I'd have told you to go for the more expensive one. Not because I think she'll be well aware of the price tag attached and be more impressed, but because the shape and cut would compliment her even more than they would with the other necklace, and if you'd taken a moment to notice what she was wearing, you'd see that this one would also flatter the bracelet she had on and the earrings she was wearing – not that I imagine she'd use this in her everyday wear."**

**Hollis was near-gawping at him, but Stratton just blew out a sigh and rolled his eyes, allowing the scathing tone to settle on his tongue for a moment before he released it on his _friend_.**

"**But what do I know, I've only just met you all."**

"So why did you come round?" Hollis's voice brought him back from his thoughts on the previous day.

Stratton met the other boy's eyes for a moment, before he turned his full attention to what lay before them.

"Oh, look," he announced to his newfound friend with a brilliant smirk. "A ride."

.

"I didn't realize you were in the habit of entertaining strays," Effy commented with an amused tone to her voice that he recognized so well. "You should've told me, I'd have brought a leash."

Aston turned and saw his brother and his brother's newest (only) _friend_ stepping from the stairs to the sidewalk; Stratton Sparks's eyes on the brunette by his side, and a matching smirk on both of their faces. To say the similarity scared him a little would be an understatement, but mainly because he noticed what lingered underneath. These two creatures before him; they were two of a kind. And God help him if he didn't know what was going to happen.

Drama. Drama. Drama.

Was there nowhere he was safe?

"I didn't realize the Upper East Side was in the habit of inspiring its youth to become glorified dog-walkers," the dark-haired boy replied, amused, while Hollis just glared at the brunette.

"One of the many traits inherited from this place. How to distinguish between the bitches," she smiled sweetly back at him, "and the bastards."

And with that Effy slipped inside the limo.

His younger sister was already seated inside, next to the two boys she held in higher regard than Aston thought was actually healthy, and he raised an eyebrow at his brother and his _friend_ in silent invitation before entering the vehicle as well.

"Who're you?" his younger 'cousin' (his dad was best friend's with the man, so they were family by choice rather than blood – and he sort of liked that explanation) demanded when his eyes set their sights on the dark-haired boy who'd just entered the limo.

"Catch. Tone," his Uncle Chuck remarked, and sent his eldest son a sideways glance.

"Stratton Sparks," the newest addition introduced himself with unabashed self-assuredness, which alone actually seemed like it could've won the fifteen-year-old over. "And you are?"

"Catch Bass," the younger replied, his tone equaling that of the other boy; the smirk, the eyebrow raise; it certainly didn't go unnoticed by the eldest among them.

"You're Georgina's daughter?" his Uncle looked up from the papers before him as he posed the question.

It was barely a flicker, but Aston noticed it; the boy nodded, and it was as if his eyes couldn't look anywhere but at the man before him.

"Where're you staying?" was the elder's next question.

Stratton seemed to pause for the slightest of moments before answering, "The Empire."

A slow smile crept up along his Uncle's lips at that, and Aston caught the scowl that crossed his brother's face in the background. "Wonderful."

"Well, you hated my mum, right?" The dark-haired boy's accent slipped even further into a brogue Aston wasn't familiar with when he said that. "And you know what they say: friends close, enemies closer and all that rot."

"Contrary to popular belief, I never hated Georgie," the elder replied, an almost _fond_ expression overcoming his features. "I just thought she was a psychotic bitch."

"Alright, Uncle Chuck, I think you've made your point," Hollis cut in then, and Catch rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh.

"Always have to ruin the fun, don't you, H?" the fifteen-year-old remarked.

"Your definition of _fun_ is vastly different from mine, _cousin_," the blonde shot back.

Catch smirked at that, and practically sneered at the elder in return, "That's because you've clearly been hit on the head too many times during _lax_."

That was a low blow. Everyone knew Hollis wasn't the best player; he tried his best, and he was good, certainly, but he was no _Nate Archibald_. Aston didn't know why his brother didn't just concentrate more on track, since he was infinitely better at running around _without_ a stick and chasing other runners as opposed to a _ball_, but apparently the elder thought playing lacrosse was the only way he could bond with their Dad, or some other stupid reasoning, so there was no convincing him otherwise.

Aston thought Hollis was pretty idiotic to be honest, if he thought the only thing he had in common with their Dad was a sport. Hell, if that were the case Aston would never even strike up a conversation with the elder. The boy was in serious need of family therapy, or at least a good boost of self-esteem.

He sort of hoped this new _friend_ of his brother's would actually do him some good.

"Ok, boys, that's enough," his Uncle said then, seemingly bored with the whole affair as he flipped another page. "There's already enough bodies in here to more than constitute a party, I don't think we need to add your dire attempts at entertainment to the mix."

.

"Seen your sister around?" Chet Baizen's voice broke through his thoughts.

"What's it to you?" Hollis replied, and flickered his gaze up to meet the other boy's eyes as he settled himself atop the stone table, his feet planting themselves firmly on the bench next to where the blonde was sitting.

"I have something for her," he responded; but there was something in his eyes, something –

" – Is that supposed to be some sort of innuendo?" the blonde asked. "Because if it is, you're totally going about this whole 'Get-Effy-Back' plan of yours completely the wrong way."

"Man, there is no '_Get-Effy-Back_' _plan_. That ship has sailed – I'm onto pastures new and all that," Chet informed him, still smirking that damn smirk.

"And you're looking to my sister to fulfill these fantasies of yours, are you?" Hollis scoffed.

"Oh, they're not fantasies," the other boy remarked, face alight with pleasure and that aura of smugness he always seemed to carry.

"What did you say?" Hollis questioned at that.

He was met with Chet's face, apparently infinitely _more_ amused than before, and laughter filled his ears.

"I don't believe this," the boy choked out. "Of all the people – it had to be you."

"What are you talking about?" Hollis demanded; he was officially _done_ with Chet Baizen's games, and being but a pawn in them.

"You should really read those Gossip Girl blasts you subscribe to more often," was the other boy's advice, before he leaned down to speak directly in his ear as he delivered the words, "I slept with your sister."

.

Hollis had been too stunned by Chet's words to actually do anything, but sit stalk still while the other boy strode away, laughing as he went. He was ashamed; because that was his _sister_ the whole school was apparently talking about, but at the same time, he wasn't; because Harper had gained her reputation a long time ago, and really, he'd sort of been expecting the whole her-and-Chet thing for a while.

What struck him as odd, however, was that he was feeling somewhat _bad_ for _Effy_. He wasn't sure why, it wasn't like he actually got on with his cousin; but he suspected it had more to do with his parents' nature, and the morals and all that they'd instilled in him since birth. It was just empathy. Besides, it was more of a fleeting feeling than a lingering one, and it had only happened when he'd looked across the courtyard, taken in the gaggles of giggling girls, the twittering from all corners of the space, the groups of guys pointing and making _those gestures_ and realized that Effy was standing in the middle of all of it.

That was until her back got that little bit straighter, her eyes got seemingly darker, and she announced to them all in a loud, clear voice, "So, my cousin's a whore – tell me something I don't know. Make sure you keep your aim as low as that next time too; I reside at the top for a reason."

And that was when Harper came into his line of vision as well. He could've sworn his cousin had some sort of psychic ability for timing and appearances; it was all far too coincidental for it not to be at least _somewhat_ orchestrated for dramatic effect.

He took the opportunity, as the younger stood momentarily stunned, to grab hold of her arm and yank her over to the side.

"You slept with Chet Baizen?" were the first words he spoke to her.

She rolled her eyes at him and flippantly replied, "So tell me something Gossip Girl hasn't."

"He was looking for you earlier – even asked me if I'd seen you," Hollis said then. "Sounds pretty desperate, if you ask me."

"Yeah, well no one _is_ asking you," came Harper's biting response, and she turned her venomous gaze on him then as opposed to the wall behind his head and off to the side a smidge. "And he found me anyway, so _crisis averted!_"

"What's wrong with you?" he questioned, leaning closer to her to get a proper look at her, both hands on her upper arms as he tugged her forward then so he could get a better view. "Are you _high?_"

"Yes, high as a kite, I'm soaring up through the atmosphere," was her sarcastic retort as she paraphrased the _Mary Poppins_ song; but he saw more truth in her words than she was trying to let on.

"Go home," he instructed her then, and started to pull her towards the front gates, throwing out his arm to hail a cab.

"What?" she demanded, wrenching her arms from his grasp, as a taxi pulled up near them.

The bell rang in the mild distance and Hollis turned to trudge back up towards the school, calling over his shoulder at his sister, "Go home, Harper!"

.

"Hey, have you seen this?" he asked, almost in disbelief, because seriously, it was crazy.

He jogged to catch up with the dark-haired boy, and held out his phone to show Stratton the latest Gossip Girl blast:

**I'd say I sense dissension in the ranks, but I think it's fairly obvious where all your loyalties lie on this one (give me a call when they don't fall into E's corner).**

**Tut tut, vdW, sleeping with a taken man – not to mention your cousin's man. Bffs? Family? Does this mean nothing to you people anymore?**

**Think of it this way, vdW: at least you won't have to struggle to choose a dress for the Bass ball tomorrow night, because you won't be going. Maybe you can keep C company in the lonely night, since it worked out so well for you both before.**

**E was spotted earlier denouncing said (ex?) bff's status as a lady-in-waiting, and my sources claim the girl didn't even shed a tear.**

**You know we call her the Ice Queen for a reason, so you love-birds better watch your backs; because E's going to be coming for you, and you know she likes her apologies raw when she bleeds you dry. **

**You know you love me.  
****xoxo  
****Gossip Girl**

"No, I hadn't," was the reply. "But thanks for showing it to me so I can get the latest insider scoop on your cousin's life. Real nice of you."

"You don't gossip," Hollis said, and he wasn't sure if his tone of disbelief made it a question or a statement.

"That's because nobody tells me anything," Stratton pointed out; though the blonde doubted this would really stop the other boy. From what he'd experienced so far in the new arrival's company, he knew more than he seemed to let on.

"Well, apparently, my sister slept with my cousin's ex-boyfriend, _before_ he was her ex," the blonde clarified; and he wasn't sure if it was to gauge the other boy's reaction or because it actually felt sort of _good_ to have someone to tell something like that to, to be the one _in-the-know_, for once.

"I don't _mind_ that nobody tells me anything," was Stratton's simple reply.

That stopped him short.

"I'll call you tomorrow about the arrangements for the party," the other boy called back, and carried on walking along, holding up a hand and half-waving it as he went.

Hollis was left standing in the street, wondering if he'd just been blown off by his new _friend_ for acting exactly the same way as those he complained about daily; or if there was just something about the dark-haired boy he hadn't figured out yet.

And surprisingly, he found that he didn't really care.

Because for once he'd done what they had, for once he'd acted like they did; and it felt good.

.

_**TBC…**_

* * *

A/N: the exchange between Stratton and Hollis about gossip was inspired by a quote from Grey's Anatomy

Ooh, and the order went: Nate Archibald – Stratton Sparks – Aston Archibald – Hollis van der Woodsen-Archibald

The Abrams-Archibald Family:  
Nate & Vanessa = married.  
Arianna 'Anna' = 18 years old. Senior.  
Aston = 17 years old. Junior.  
Aurora 'Rory' = 15 years old. Freshman.

Hollis van der Woodsen-Archibald = 17 years old. Junior.

Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you thought of it – it really means a lot!  
Steph  
xxx


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